


i got a little bit left to give up

by amiphobic



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29754684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amiphobic/pseuds/amiphobic
Summary: “I don’t know,” Penelope said, and for the first time since seeing Josie again, her walls lowered, a rare vulnerability exposed. “Once you’ve given every piece of yourself away, what’s left?”Josie replied immediately, “Everything that others have given you.”(Josie and Penelope meet again nine years later, different in a litany of ways, but same in the ways that matter.)
Relationships: Josie Saltzman & Lizzie Saltzman, Penelope Park/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 25
Kudos: 76





	i got a little bit left to give up

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly canon compliant through the end of s2. The Saltzman twins are 24 here, and the Merge has not yet been solved, only put off.

_I've seen some places and so many faces  
But you look like home tonight  
You crave attention and I need affection  
So let's walk the silver line_

* * *

Josie stepped into the street, pushing past a throng of clubbers, and looked down the colorful avenue. Neon signs glowed vibrantly under the dark pink sky, lighting the pavement and sidewalk, the shadows of the overhead balconies pulling long. She brushed away a few strands of hair that stuck to her forehead and cheeks, goosebumps dotting her arms in the chill evening air. Exhaling, her troubles abandoned her for a fleeting breath of calm.

And then she put one foot in front of the other, walking unsteadily down the middle of Bourbon Street. At the sight of the half-assembled stage in the distance, she stopped to retrieve her phone from her pocket with clumsy fingers. She opened her camera app and hit the record button, pivoting dizzily so that the stage was also in the shot.

“Looks like they haven’t finished setting up yet,” Josie said slowly, tongue still harsh with the taste of gin. “To be fair, I heard the council had to take way more precautions this time. Turns out 1939 didn’t have nearly as many nosy tourists or camera phones.” She resumed strolling, reaching her free hand out to lightly graze against the cool metal of each passing streetlamp. “In other news, Hope insisted I stay at the Abattoir with her and her family.” She gave the camera a flat stare. “I know, but I guess even a once-in-a-century festival is exciting for people who have been around for a millennia.”

A low battery notification popped up, and Josie immediately dismissed it with a flicker of annoyance. “I’ll record something longer another time. The meeting with the regent of the Tremere coven is at the crack of dawn, because of course it is.”

Ahead, a group of tourists surrounded an old storefront and forced Josie to change her path. As she crossed to the other side of the street, she passed two young girls—one blonde and the other brunette—bickering with each other as their parents attempted to mollify them.

Chest constricting with a pang of sorrow, Josie’s gaze lingered on the deescalating public tantrum for a few more moments. She clenched her hand around nothing, choking back the surge of bittersweet childhood memories. Then, she refocused, looking directly at the lens with a melancholic smile and glassy eyes, and said, “I really miss you, Lizzie.”

///

Hazy dawn met Josie as her alarm blared, the sun peeking over the horizon with nascent warmth. She tapped the screen to silence her phone and remained tangled in the thin cotton covers, heartbeat sluggishly loud in her ears. The indulgence lasted a few minutes before she finally clambered out of bed, muscles aching in anticipation for the long day ahead.

A scalding hot shower and change of clothes later, she headed down the stairs. In an effort of consideration to the Abattoir’s other inhabitants, she moved as quietly as she could, only to see Hope hunched over her laptop, messy russet hair falling into her face. She blew it to the side and said, “Morning.”

“Oh.” Josie felt silly now for tip-toeing so carefully. “Good morning.”

“Everyone else headed out an hour ago,” Hope said as she stood up, stretching her arms over her head. Judging by the wool blanket and used mug and plate on the coffee table, she’d stayed there overnight. “You want breakfast?”

“Sure, but more importantly, does no one in your family sleep?”

“No rest for the formerly wicked.” Hope shrugged and left it at that. She led the way to the kitchen, asking, “What are you feeling? Eggs, toast, bacon?”

None of those sounded particularly appetizing, but an empty stomach was a worse idea. Josie decided, “Something fast.”

“Cereal it is.” Hope pulled out two bowls from a cabinet and gestured for Josie to take a seat at the island. “By the way, Ric texted me last night asking me why you haven’t been answering his calls.”

Guilt and irritation needled at Josie with the reminder of the many ignored voicemails from her father. “I hate when you call him that,” she said, grabbing the box of cornflakes from the counter, and poured herself a serving.

“Oh, I know.” Hope beamed winningly. “But we’re colleagues now, and I do so enjoy being… collegiate.”

“Collegial,” Josie corrected. With a bounce in her step, Hope retrieved two spoons and a carton of milk from the fridge before settling in the adjacent chair. Josie assessed Hope with narrowed eyes, noting a little suspiciously, “You’re in a good mood.”

“Family puts me in a good mood,” Hope said, bumping her shoulder against Josie’s. “Any reason you’re avoiding yours?”

Josie sighed, slouching against the counter. “I just don’t need any more pressure before the meeting.”

“With one of the witches on Lizzie’s list?”

“The first,” Josie replied, but she didn’t really want to discuss it further. Changing the subject, she asked, “Where was your family even headed out to at this hour?”

Picking up on Josie’s reluctance, Hope humored her and replied, “Nik wanted to attend a sunrise sermon, which I support, even if I think it’s a little weird for a kid his age.”

“How old is he again?”

“He turned 8 a few months ago,” Hope said airily, “but lucky me, I missed the party because I was doing recruitment work in Toronto.” A current of disappointment underlined her words, and, not for the first time, Josie wondered if Hope regretted taking on so many of Alaric’s responsibilities.

A buzz from Josie’s phone startled them, and as Josie dismissed yet another call from her father, she caught a glimpse of the time. She quickly shoveled the remaining cornflakes into her mouth and mumbled an incoherent goodbye as she rushed to the door.

“You’re welcome,” Hope called out after her. “Good luck!”

///

The mysterious Tremere coven had been granted use of the Museum of Death for the duration of the festivities, apparently unconcerned with seeming too on the nose. Fingers drumming on the edge of one of the visitor benches, Josie failed to tamp down her anxiety as she waited for the regent’s preceding meeting to conclude.

This was just the first of several possible leads, Josie reminded herself. Even if she couldn’t find answers today, there was still the rest of the month-long festival. But despite her parents’ continued effort and Hope’s pledged support, it was hard not to feel daunted by how alone she was in this.

Lost in thought, a thrum of magic beneath Josie’s fingertips prickled sharply, jolting her back to the present. She must have siphoned instinctively. Her fingers unfurled swiftly, relinquishing the power back to nature as if she’d been burned. The sensation stung, and she swallowed back her nerves. For the briefest moment, the magic had been soothing, firmly in her control.

Muffled voices in the back of the administrative area mercifully drew her attention away. Josie straightened, hoping that her turn had come.

“My regards to your family, I hope you’re able to find another recourse.” The speaker had a low, rich tone, and even at this distance, Josie could identify an unmistakable air of authority. Presumably, this was the regent, Clodius.

“Thank you for your time, I’ll see myself out,” came the reply from his visitor. The voice resonated familiarly, reminding Josie of someone, but she struggled to place it exactly.

Josie stood as she heard footsteps approaching and took a long, deep breath, preparing herself. The regent’s guest—a young woman, dark hair tied back in a short ponytail—emerged. She was sharply pretty, with a cool expression that fell away as she noticed Josie. With a shock, Josie realized that it was none other than Penelope Park.

Penelope raised her eyebrows, matching her surprise. “Hey,” she said, rough with the abruptness of the reunion.

“Hey,” Josie echoed automatically. A rush of memories crowded her mind, ones of adolescent heartbreak and smoldering kisses. Even now, they lingered hauntingly, like indelible imprints.

The regent, a thin man with a sallow pallor, cut in and brought Josie back to the present. “Ms. Saltzman, I presume.”

Tearing herself from the unexpected sight of a childhood ex, Josie pivoted toward Clodius and nodded. She followed after his already retreating form, feeling off-balance, as if her entire world had shifted an inch to the right. Looking over her shoulder, she stared at Penelope for one beat longer.

Penelope stared back, almost muted now, her eyes holding something unreadable after all these years.

And then Josie turned the corner, the hall and Penelope slipping out of view. She extinguished whatever chaos was brewing in her chest, reminding herself what she was here for.

///

That evening, Josie spent a few hours sifting through the extra reading material provided by Hope’s Uncle Kol. The few and infrequent fragments about the Gemini coven confused her more than anything, and by the time the sky was entirely dark, she was ready for a break. She grabbed her phone and decided to finish watching Lizzie’s entry for the day, pressing resume on the video.

_“_... _I swear, it’s my new favorite restaurant. You need,_ need _, to try their fudge brownies. I bet MG twenty bucks that you’ll love them, since he said they were only ‘okay,’ and I need you to vindicate me.”_ After a beat, Lizzie admitted, _“Also, I don’t have twenty dollars.”_

Josie smiled down at her sister’s exaggerated gestures captured perfectly on screen, warmed by the familiarity as always. She scribbled down the name of the restaurant in her notebook for when she headed back to Mystic Falls.

_“Also, I finally finished How I Met Your Mother, and you were right. I am… so full of rage. What bloated carcass of an overhyped showrunner did this?”_ Lizzie groaned loudly before launching into a ten-minute rant, well-deserved and only somewhat articulate. Finally, she flopped back onto her bed, camera jostling with the movement. _“Okay, I swear I’m done now.”_

Confident that there would be more tirades in subsequent videos, Josie laughed to herself. But in a way, that comforted her, to think she still knew Lizzie, that they would still be close one day in the future.

_“Mom texted earlier, saying she’ll be a bit late. Typical. So, I’m not getting picked up until tomorrow,”_ Lizzie said, frowning, _“and then it’ll be back to the solution grind.”_ She sighed, letting the sound sit for a while, and Josie felt the same heaviness that weighed her down every day. Belatedly, Lizzie seemed to recall that she was still filming. _“If you’re watching this, then it probably means we don’t get anywhere. So, in a way, I hope you don’t have to see this.”_

The clear discouragement in Lizzie’s face was heartbreaking, and Josie’s arms ached with the desire to simply hold her.

_“But, just in case you do… good night, Jo. I love you.”_

As the video ended, Josie stared at the screen until it darkened and her phone fell asleep. Fingers curling tightly around the device, she tried to keep her emotions at bay as they bubbled up, one after the other. Disappointment over the meeting with Clodius, shame over her continued naivete that the next lead could be the one, and devastation as half of her heart corroded away. It was a losing battle, but she refused to back down, wiping away her tears as they formed.

Josie forced a shuddery exhale and focused on keeping her breathing even until she found a quiet corner of her mind. The technique proved effective as calm washed over her, lasting until the sound of a notification from her phone broke her concentration. She checked her text messages, seeing several from her father that she continued ignoring for the time being and one from Hope inviting her out to participate in the festivities with her family. It was a kind gesture, but Josie honestly couldn’t think of anything worse tonight.

After shooting back a polite refusal, Josie steeled herself before reopening her camera and beginning her entry for Lizzie.

“I’m sure you’ll _never_ believe it, but Clodius turned out to be a self-serving parasite. He wanted me to siphon something for him in return for access to some vague connections. Just thought I should get that out of the way first since he really doesn’t deserve any more of our time.” Josie thought about the rest of her day for a moment, trying to maintain her cheery facade. “If you ever come to New Orleans, avoid Klein’s, the cappuccino I had there was basically a crime against humanity. While drinking it, I heard your voice in the back of my mind, ‘guess this coffee and your ex-ripper have something in common.’ Yep, that bad.

“Speaking of exes, right before the Tremere meeting, I ran into Penelope Park.” Josie paused for dramatic effect, as if anticipating Lizzie’s eventual gasp. “It was weird. She looked…” _Really good._ “Like it’s been nine years since we last saw each other.”

Idly, Josie wondered what Lizzie’s reaction would be. Perhaps, she’d be overprotective, warning Josie about the risks of being pulled back into Satan’s orbit. Or maybe, Lizzie would decide to be exceedingly and obnoxiously supportive, encouraging Josie to reconnect. But she wouldn’t find out for another two years.

Josie stopped the recording, chill loneliness wrapping around her like an old friend. She shivered against the feeling, willing it away, but it never left her as easily as everyone else did. She curled up in bed, tugging the covers up to her chin, but it was futile. It pulled at her, tearing her further and further apart. Tomorrow she’d pick up the pieces, but tonight she let herself unravel.

///

Kol’s collection of tomes relating to the Merge lasted a good couple of days. As the third of the opening week parades marched on by in raucous fashion, Josie relaxed on the outdoor patio of a small cafe and flipped through the last available book. _The Definitive History of Rare Magic_ was neither definitive nor a particularly comprehensible history so far, but it referenced several promising sources that she had never heard of before. She jotted down the ones that were of enough interest in her notebook.

The cacophony of the passing parade became an almost pleasant white noise in the background as she worked. It was only when the patio chair opposite her dragged out with a screech that her attention was diverted.

Penelope plopped down, slanting smile painted across her lips. Evidently, the years hadn’t taken her assured attitude away. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who finds the floats hard to look at,” Penelope said, leaning casually against the glass of the table, as if the nine-year chasm between them was inconsequential. No one else would’ve been able to pull it off even half as well.

Masking her surprise as best she could, Josie replied, “Nothing against them, but I want to finish this more.” She was pleased that her voice held steady, betraying none of the weakness she’d felt before the meeting with Clodius.

“May I?” Penelope gestured toward the book, and Josie obligingly showed her the cover. With squinted eyes, Penelope scanned the title. “Just some light reading to avoid the revelry?”

“I’d rather call it multitasking.”

Penelope hummed in response, turning as a particularly colorful float came into view, and let out a half-hearted cheer as the performers showed off their juggling skills. Paying it little mind, Josie’s gaze settled back on Penelope. Her face was slightly thinner than Josie remembered, and the nose piercing she had once worn to piss off her strict mother was now gone. Everything else was much the same, and a pulse of reminiscence rattled in Josie’s chest as if they weren’t practically strangers by this point.

“So, it’s been awhile,” Penelope said without looking directly at Josie. She seemed touched with hesitance, but Josie couldn’t discern her exact tone of voice. As always, something else loomed over them, unspoken.

“Yeah,” Josie said softly, ignoring the twinge of regret she felt at Penelope’s words. “Feels like a lifetime since you moved.”

Penelope waved it off. “Well, you had your hands full with Malivore and whatever that necromancer dude was called—”

“The Necromancer,” Josie interjected, laughing at the immediate disbelief on Penelope’s face.

“Oh, _the_ Necromancer, sure,” Penelope said, matching Josie’s laugh now.

“Yeah… a lot’s happened.” The amusement left Josie, replaced with something more pensive.

“Well,” Penelope said, drawing out the word and giving Josie a sidelong glance, “I’ve got time to kill today. And I promise to be more exciting than a dusty, old book. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

Catching up with her past wasn’t exactly how Josie had envisioned the day would go. Though to be honest, very little of the previous few years had been expected. At the least, it could be a nice break from the migraine that had been slowly developing for the past thirty minutes, she reasoned. If some mawkish part of her simply wanted to talk to Penelope again, then she acquiesced to it too. Marking her page, she let the book fall shut.

“Where should I even begin?”

“Last I heard, you were challenging Lizzie to some sort of showdown in a dark magic-induced rampage,” Penelope said, tilting her head to the side appraisingly. “I remember feeling like I would’ve been impressed if it hadn’t sounded so concerning.” As Penelope’s eyes met Josie’s, they both froze, as if they’d bumped against an invisible boundary. Clearing her throat, Penelope quickly followed it up with, “But MG and I kind of fell out of touch after that.”

Josie paused and debated the merits of engaging with everything in that statement. No, that was better left untouched for now. Instead, she recounted, “Well, after we destroyed Malivore for good, he released all the creatures he’d consumed over the centuries. The clean-up for that took years.”

“So, it was just crisis after crisis?”

“Yeah.” Josie hadn’t spent too much time reflecting on that period of her life. How could she have, when there was still the Merge hanging over her head? But reflecting on it now, her initial answer seemed shallow. She shook her head and said, “Actually, not really. After awhile, it all blurred into one long event.”

Penelope’s neutral expression flickered with something that read like pity, but perhaps that was just what Josie wanted, a recognition of all that the Salvatore students had gone through. But Penelope kept her offhand tone, commenting, “Must’ve seemed neverending at the time.”

“It did,” Josie said. It was unexpectedly cathartic to merely voice that simple acknowledgement. As the passing marching band started up an upbeat song, her mood shifted with it, and past burdens fell away against the backdrop of cheerful, staccato trumpets.

“And after that?”

“Then, a breath of relief,” Josie said with a new nonchalance, “which, of course, couldn’t last. But just when I thought the Merge couldn’t be put off any longer, Aunt Bonnie helped devise a temporary loophole.” Penelope leaned forward, curious, and so Josie elaborated. “She cast something she called a ‘modified Sleeping Beauty spell,’ and put me into a suspended coma-like state. Every year, Lizzie and I switch off.”

Four years. That’s how long it had been, Josie realized belatedly.

For a second, Josie thought Penelope was going to comment something serious. Instead, a sharp grin graced Penelope’s features, mirth crinkling the corners of her eyes. “And after everything, Lizzie left you to do all this socializing? All the fun, fun degradation at the feet of dried up coven leaders?” Penelope asked, gesturing at the continuous stream of gaudy floats.

That elicited a startled, short laugh from Josie. “Well, Lizzie had an apocalypse or two to deal with last year, so I can’t complain.”

“Mystic Falls?”

“Yep.”

“All the bad shit happens there,” Penelope said, sounding almost awed.

“Birthplace to vampirism and hybrids,” Josie said, flashing a sarcastic smile. “Turns out that pretty much makes it a hellmouth.” As the tail end of the parade crossed in front of them, Josie felt self-conscious that they’d spent so long talking about her. “And what about you? Belgium wasn’t nearly as exciting, I bet.”

“It had its moments.” After some consideration, Penelope added, “A lot of politicking.”

“I bet you fit right in.” Josie envisioned Penelope effortlessly commanding and outmaneuvering the Belgian witches with a snap of her fingers, just as she had at the Salvatore Boarding School. Realizing how it might’ve sounded, she clarified, “In a good way.”

“Yeah, I did.” A faraway look took hold of Penelope at that. But she blinked, and it left her. “Managed to graduate without any near death experiences though. Highly recommend.”

“I guess I can’t argue with that.”

“Did the boring stuff—gap year, college, all that—and now I’m working with the Selkie, a coalition of witches operating out of Southeast Asia. ‘Keeping the peace,’ is their mission statement, even if it’s just a pretty way of saying they’ll quash anyone who stands against them,” Penelope said, leaning back in her chair.

Josie marveled at how different their life experiences had been. “And how are you enjoying that?”

Penelope glanced down at her hands, fidgeting a bit. Finally, she concluded, “It also has its moments.”

Through the ambiguity, Josie got the sense that Penelope didn’t really want to discuss the finer points of her job. That was fine, Josie wouldn’t push.

Frowning, Penelope fished her phone from her pocket as it vibrated persistently. Her affability vanished all at once. She ignored the call and sighed, sounding more natural than she had in the entire exchange of small talk. “Family. You know how it is.”

Oh, Josie sure did. She still hadn’t replied to her dad’s many texts and calls.

“Well, I have to go sort this out,” Penelope said as she stood stiffly. She unclenched her jaw, visibly forcing the tension to leave her stance, and regained some semblance of composure. “It was nice catching up.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” Penelope said, much gentler now, in a way that made Josie believe that she sincerely hoped to.

Penelope left on that note, swallowed up by the crowd of festival attendees, taking the moment of brief respite with her, and Josie felt strangely empty.

///

_“Another dead end.”_ Josie held her phone up as she laid back against the stack of pillows at the head of the bed, watching the screen intently as Lizzie painted her toenails a shiny shell-white. Lizzie paused thoughtfully before continuing, _“You know, I’ve been trying to think positively and manifest good things in my life, but the universe seems very resistant to that new age bullshit. And MG keeps saying, ‘we’re more than our failures,’ and something about learning from them. Though to be absolutely honest, I stopped listening when I realized it was a Spider-Man quote.”_

Returning her attention to the task at hand, Lizzie concentrated on painting the rest of the toes on her right foot. After she was satisfied, she looked at the camera again and said, _“Speaking of MG… we got into another fight. And this time it was only half my fault. 55% at most.”_ Oh, this had to be a good one. Josie shrunk Lizzie’s entry down into picture-in-picture mode and brought up the message app to text MG, dividing her attention between the two.

_“He was showing me pictures of these ugly little condos and asking me dumb stuff like which one I liked the most,”_ Lizzie said, scrunching her nose. _“How many times do I have to tell him that I don’t want to think about the future? Not with things the way they are.”_

_Just got to fight number 3,_ Josie typed. Bubbles appeared as MG wrote out a response.

_“It’s fine.”_ Lizzie sniffed, seemingly unconcerned, though Josie was sure it was a front. _“He’ll vent to Kaleb, and they’ll go out for a few drinks or some other intricate manly ritual. Then he’ll come crawling back with an apology, and because love has softened a bitch, I’ll probably apologize too or whatever.”_ Josie chuckled, confident that Lizzie would wait for an appropriate amount of groveling before reciprocating. _“That’s the only good part of this whole ‘you can’t see your sister until finding an elusive magic cure or you’ll die’ thing. He can’t really be too mad at me.”_ Well, leave it to Lizzie to find the silver lining.

Josie’s phone buzzed with a reply from MG: _Buckle in for a few days of complaints. I’m pretty sure that’s the time Kaleb and I went for a long weekend trip out to Richmond._

As Lizzie focused on finishing her left foot, Josie sent a quick answer to MG: _Hey! No spoilers._

Josie expanded the video to fullscreen once more just as Lizzie looked up and out the window of the room she was in. Quieter now, Lizzie said, _“But other than that, it’s hard, isn’t it?”_ Reflexively, Josie nodded her assent. Lips twisting, Lizzie forced away a grimace. _“I know we agreed to be totally honest in these entries, but I feel like if I voice my fears, everything will come crashing down around me.”_

Back straightening, Lizzie declared, _“So, I’m going to channel my best Hope Andrea Mikaelson and be brave. At least for a few more days. As the crazy one, I reserve the right to go back on my word at any time.”_ She smiled, expression lighting up. _“Talk to you again soon.”_

The entry ended there, and Josie let her phone slip from her hand to the bed with a soft thump. A subtle exhaustion pulled at her, and she relented, letting her eyes fall shut, falling asleep without entirely meaning to. She dreamed of nights without moonlight and mornings without her sister.

///

At the end of the first week, Bonnie arrived with little fanfare and an armful of gifts. Josie greeted her with excitement, pulling her into a long hug as soon as they saw each other. As Josie helped move her luggage up to her hotel room, Bonnie rambled about her red-eye flight and the rude stewardess at the airport. Afterwards, they caught brunch at a cajun-inspired restaurant, where Josie caught her up on the Merge research and Lizzie’s video diaries. Bonnie listened attentively, absorbing the information and considering her progress.

“And how have you been holding up?” Bonnie asked, brow knitting with gentle concern.

Josie shrugged off the question, ignoring the twist in her gut, and replied, “As well as can be expected. I’m just trying to get through this stupid festival.”

“Stupid, huh?” Bonnie raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“It’s a little self-indulgent,” Josie said, gesturing around at the garish decorations lining the interior of the venue. “Taking over a city for a month to talk about how great we are.”

“Do you really think that?” Bonnie’s eyes filled with a sad tenderness, like she’d just realized how much Josie had changed in the four years since they’d last seen each other.

Cheeks warming with embarrassment, Josie looked down at the scratched oak surface of the table between them. The clear sympathy in Bonnie’s tone felt like a reprimand—albeit a kind one—for her cynicism.

“It seems like you haven’t even participated in any of the festivities yet,” Bonnie said. “You’re not willing to give any of it a chance?”

“I don’t really have time for frivolities,” Josie muttered, looking away, shoulders sagging dejectedly. “And it wouldn’t feel right. Not when Lizzie’s not able to be here with me.”

Bonnie crossed her arms. “We both know that’s just an excuse. Lizzie told me all about the promise you both made to live as best you can.”

Josie shrank away from the glare instinctively, remembering exactly how stern Bonnie could be when push came to shove. “It still doesn’t feel right,” Josie insisted, “and I haven’t been in the mood to celebrate.”

The severity in Bonnie’s expression softened, and she reached out to clasp Josie’s hands in hers. “Josie, it took me years to understand it myself, but one day, I realized that I had lived my life for everyone else. I’d even died for everyone else.” Bonnie squeezed firmly, drawing Josie’s attention up to her. “And it was only after I started making choices just for myself that I really got to live.”

“But I _can’t_ make choices just for myself,” Josie said, jaw clenching as protectiveness surged up, filling her chest. “I’ve never been just myself. Does that make sense?”

Bonnie set her mouth in a slanted line, mulling it over, and finally nodded. “Yeah, it does. But I hope you’ll still think about what I said.”

“I will,” Josie said. Though she relegated it to the back of her mind for now, her promise was sincere. One day, when death wasn’t breathing down her neck, she’d revisit it.

Relinquishing her grip, Bonnie pulled back and asked, “Who’s next on the list? They’re all supposed to be in town, right? Maybe I can help.”

Grateful for the redirection, Josie unlocked her phone and navigated to her notes. “Evangeline Ramos, the regent of the Madayag coven.”

“Hm, I’ve heard of them before. I believe that’s a Filipino coven,” Bonnie said and bent forward, chin on hand, to see the screen. “I’ll ask around, see if I can find an in.”

“Thank you.” As Josie opened the menu and browsed the restaurant’s offerings, she said, “Enough with all that depressing stuff now. Tell me more about your thirtieth trip to Paris. It never gets old, right?”

///

The next evening, Josie received a message from Bonnie: _Ramos and her coven are known to be quite reclusive. All I’ve been able to dig up is that they’re part of the Selkie Coalition. I’ll keep asking around for a contact._

The Selkie Coalition… it had to be the same one she’d heard about a few days earlier. Typing out a response, Josie began to formulate a plan: _No need. I think I’ve got an in._

///

Midway through a simple breakfast, Josie recalled that she’d almost immediately thrown out the festival schedule given to her upon arrival. Luckily, Hope was content with an unspoken _I told you so_ and graciously obliged when Josie asked for a glimpse of her copy. As Josie trailed a finger down the list of events for the day, she tried to decide which would appeal to Penelope the most.

Back in their boarding school days, Penelope had enjoyed her fair share of partying, so there was a chance she’d be at one of the livelier celebrations. But she’d seemed mellower when they spoke previously, perhaps even weighed down by her responsibilities. If the Selkie were concerned with power grabbing, then Penelope was presumably playing to her strengths, using this as an opportunity to make new and powerful connections.

It was with that thinking process that Josie chose to start at St. Mary’s, where a half dozen coven regents would convene at noon. When she arrived at half past, she easily spotted Penelope amidst the modest gathering. Josie smiled smugly to herself and leaned against one of the columns.

She endured the theatrics of the unity ceremony with ambivalence, keeping Penelope in her line of sight throughout. For much of Josie’s observance, Penelope seemed detached, almost bored, frequently dropping her gaze to her phone. But when the service concluded, Penelope stood and came alive, expression brightening instantly as she greeted the regents, and it was so privately satisfying to see through her artifice even from a distance.

Josie waited until the crowd had dispersed and the regents had continued on their way before moving in toward Penelope.

“Hey,” Josie said, attempting an easy smile as Penelope turned, one eyebrow raising in surprise.

“Well, hey.” Penelope glanced around and said, “Didn’t think I’d see you at something like this.”

“I was actually looking for you.” As Penelope narrowed her eyes assessingly, Josie straightened, trying to project a confidence that she didn’t quite feel.

“What for?”

“I need an introduction to Evangeline Ramos,” Josie said, tucking some hair behind her ear. “I heard she’s part of that coalition you’re working for, and I was wondering if you’d be willing to help me.”

Penelope pressed her lips together tightly as she contemplated the request. Eyes flicking up to meet Josie’s, Penelope held her there with a long stare. Josie did her best not to fidget, even as her anxiety became palpable, threatening to burst from her. Finally, Penelope asked, “And what exactly would I get in return?” The mercenary tone wasn’t unexpected, but still, Josie faltered.

She crossed her arms self-consciously and answered, “I don’t know. What would you want?”

The hesitant question broke the cold tension between them, and Penelope’s rigidity melted away, posture relaxing degree by degree. She shook her head and laughed under her breath. “Nothing big. It’s just an introduction.”

The ease in Penelope’s words seemed genuine, allowing Josie to feel more confident about her chances. “Then…” Josie trailed off, thinking about what she had to offer. Half-jokingly, she suggested, “I could make you dinner some time.”

Penelope fought a smile for a few seconds before surrendering to its sincerity. Shrugging, she said, “Why not?”

Josie let out a small exhale of relief as she tugged her phone from her pocket. “You okay giving me your contact info, so we can coordinate?”

“Sure.” Penelope’s smile turned teasing as she drawled, “Gotta say, that was the smoothest way I’ve ever been asked my number.”

Even though Josie knew Penelope had said it to provoke a strong reaction, it didn’t stop heat from rising to her cheeks. There was no defense for why it flustered her so much, but as her mouth opened, nothing came out. She didn’t have a good rejoinder that wasn’t potentially moronic or embarrassing.

Taking pity on her, Penelope let the moment slide and plucked a card out of her jacket pocket, holding it out to Josie. “Text me your availability, I’ll arrange something.”

“I will,” Josie stammered and took the card from Penelope. Their fingers brushed just barely with the exchange, and Josie swallowed hard, drawing away. To cover up her reaction, she rushed to say, “I should go. I clearly interrupted, so.”

“No problem.”

“Good luck with… all this,” Josie said, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. “And thank you, again.”

As Josie headed to the exit, she allowed herself to look back once more. Penelope was still watching her go, letting herself be caught by Josie. It was too much, and Josie tore herself away, returning to her journey back to the Abattoir.

///

After a few brief back and forth texts about schedules, Josie received a time and place for the meeting from Penelope. Though Bonnie offered to come along, Josie gently and firmly turned her down. She didn’t want to give off the impression that she needed a babysitter.

And when Josie was stood in front of the Madayag coven leader the next day, that instinct was validated. Evangeline Ramos only came up to Josie’s chin, but the severe set of her aging features gave her an imposing presence all the same. Evangeline waved, dismissing the two men waiting on her, and beckoned Josie closer in a wordless command.

Josie lowered her head respectfully as she approached and said, “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Ms. Ramos.”

“Please, call me Evangeline. Only my friends call me Ms. Ramos,” Evangeline said in a gruff tone that Josie only recognized as mordant a beat later.

“Evangeline,” Josie repeated, acquiescing.

“Let me guess, you’re looking for a loophole with your coven’s Merge.” At Josie’s nod of affirmation, Evangeline continued, “I’ve heard only a little about the origins of the ritual. From what I understand, it began as purely symbolic, one twin recognizing the other as the leader. Somewhere down the line a curse was put on your family, requiring an actual merge of magic and souls.”

These were all details that Josie and Lizzie had discovered several years ago, but it at least gave Evangeline more credibility than the vast majority of the other sources they’d chased down over the years. Josie kept her expression blank as she listened, trying not to tip her hand either way.

“I don’t know much more than that, but my coven keeps extensive archival records stretching back centuries,” Evangeline said, attention focused on Josie intently now. “I can’t guarantee you’ll find the answer you want, but I am confident that you will find information there that you won’t find anywhere else.”

“That,” Josie said, cautiously optimistic, “is a very generous offer. What would that cost me?”

Evangeline’s lips pulled into a thin smile that sent a shiver of worry down Josie’s spine. “A few months ago, Ms. Park kindly helped me deal with a minor issue. I would simply be more than happy to repay that favor to a friend of hers. It would be no problem at all for my son to bring hard copies in from our Texas warehouse.”

Something about the situation rubbed Josie the wrong way. Perhaps it was the shrewdness in Evangeline’s eyes or the vague reference to an event that Josie had no knowledge of. Either way, this had to be more complicated than she knew.

“I don’t speak for Penelope,” Josie said, slow and careful. “I’ll have to discuss with her before accepting.”

If Evangeline was displeased, she didn’t let it show, merely nodding with understanding. “Of course. I will be around until this festival concludes.”

“Thank you again. I’ll see myself out.”

At Evangeline’s nod of acknowledgement, Josie spun and left, already dreading the prospect of the no doubt difficult conversation ahead of her. From experience, she knew that Penelope wasn’t the type to yield easily, but if Josie pushed too hard, she’d risk breaking their tenuous reconnection. She’d prefer not to burn bridges needlessly given her shortage of allies.

(And if there was some part of her that wasn’t quite ready to let go of the past, Josie wasn’t ready to admit it just yet.)

///

Josie bent to check the smaller oven for the umpteenth time, confirming that the biscuits had not yet begun to brown. At least the other oven would finish in fifteen minutes, just before Penelope was set to arrive. But that also gave ample time for worrying, which—not to brag but—she excelled at. The necessary skill she hadn’t mastered yet was negotiation. Sure, Penelope had agreed to the introduction in return for something simple, but an introduction was considerably less than clearing some nebulous debt.

_If only Lizzie were here_ , Josie thought before remembering the old animosity between her sister and ex-girlfriend. Still, if Lizzie were here, Josie would feel better anyway.

Josie picked up her phone and went through her email and messages, disappointed to find nothing suitably distracting. To keep herself occupied, she brought up Hope’s contact and hit call.

Hope answered with predictable and comforting promptness. _“What’s up? Did your biscuits burn?”_

“No! Thank god,” Josie said, sighing noisily and exaggeratedly. “But I still don’t know how I’m going to bring up the stuff with Evangeline Ramos.”

_“I feel like she’ll ask how the meeting went, and then you’ll say, ‘great, except I need your help again.’”_

“But if she says no, then we have to sit through a whole dinner after that.” A whine snuck into Josie’s voice despite her best efforts to combat it. She drummed her fingers against the countertop as she waited for Hope’s response.

“ _Okay, instead, you say you’ll tell her after dinner, and ask then. Bam. Easy,”_ Hope said with her enviable confidence.

“Not easy. She could still say no, and I really need a yes,” Josie insisted with a frown. “Ugh, what would you do?”

_“Seduce her,”_ Hope replied way too quickly.

“I’m serious!”

_“So was I.”_

“You’re the worst,” Josie said and crossed her arms, adamantly _not_ thinking about how said seduction would go.

_“I am simply here to help,”_ Hope said in what Josie felt was a very mocking tone. But Josie’s unease had mostly subsided, so it was forgivable.

“Well, then you failed. Okay, talk later, I should finish setting the table.”

_“I totally believe in you!”_

Thankfully, Hope had proven a long enough diversion, and the tops of the biscuits were finally browning nicely. Josie switched the oven off and decided to leave them in there to cool for a few minutes. As she grabbed utensils and napkins, the chime of the doorbell rang through the compound.

Josie cursed under her breath, dumping the items on the dining table as she rushed to the front door. She twisted the knob and swung the door open, revealing her expected guest. Penelope stood outside, absently looking up and admiring the exterior of the Abattoir. She wore her hair down tonight, curling just past her shoulders, contrasting nicely against her loose-fitting white blouse. As her attention came down, Josie noticed Penelope had put on some light eyeliner and lip gloss.

“You look nice,” Josie said without entirely meaning to. Damn it, this was Hope’s fault, for putting dumb, trashy ideas in her head.

“Thanks.” Penelope smirked as her eyes trailed down Josie’s form, and Josie realized embarrassedly that she was in Hope’s _Hot Stuff Coming Through_ apron. “You too.” Great, that was _definitely_ the impression she wanted to make.

“Uhm, come in. Please.” Josie closed the door behind Penelope and said, “Take a seat. I just have to take some stuff out of the oven.”

“I brought this,” Penelope said, placing a bottle of Lambrusco on the table. “If you’re not a wine person, hopefully one of the Mikaelsons is.”

“I’ll get us glasses,” Josie said and hurried back to the kitchen. She slipped the apron off before carefully removing both dishes from the oven and setting them aside on the countertop.

As Josie portioned and plated the macaroni and cheese and biscuits with gravy, Penelope called out from the dining room, “Need any help?”

“No, I’ve got it under control,” Josie shouted back. She brought out two plates and saw Penelope had taken it upon herself to finish setting the table, napkins and utensils placed neatly for both of them. It was a small gesture, but at least Josie didn’t have to worry about that additional task.

“Smells good,” Penelope said.

“Thank you,” Josie said, faintly pleased. “Let me just get the glasses now.”

“No problem. Take your time.”

Josie returned with two wine flutes in hand, in time to see Penelope frowning down at her phone in the same way she had during the parade. As Josie finally took a seat, she asked, “Everything okay?”

Hastily, Penelope tucked her phone back into her pocket and nodded. “Nothing important.” As her furrowed brow smoothed out, she picked up the bottle and uncorked it with a simple spell. “Here, let me.” She poured Josie’s glass first and slid it toward her before doing the same for herself.

“Thank you.”

Penelope lifted her glass in the air, and Josie mirrored her. “To…” For a moment, Penelope seemed at a loss for words, but she recovered evenly. “To reconnecting and all that.”

“Cheers,” Josie said as she brought their glasses together in a delicate clink. The first sip brought chilled clarity, temperature no doubt altered by Penelope’s magic, and she wondered if Penelope was also trying to impress her.

They tucked into the meal, and Josie was mostly happy with the results. The gravy was a tad lighter than she liked, but other than that, she was fairly satisfied.

After the first mouthful, Penelope raised an eyebrow. “You made this?”

“Of course I did,” Josie said, slightly indignant at Penelope’s skepticism.

“It’s very good,” Penelope said, hiding her amusement as she took a sip of the wine. “I just didn’t know what to expect given the last time you cooked for me.”

Memories of a disastrous, soupy casserole surfaced, and Josie recalled in particular how Penelope had doubled over in laughter, unable to offer any reassuring platitudes as Josie pouted at the mess. Josie tried to fight off the same expression now as she said, “You promised not to bring that up ever again.”

“You’re right, sorry, sorry,” Penelope said, though her smile betrayed her apologetic tone. “How did your meeting with Ramos go?”

The reminder that Josie still had to ask for a big favor churned her stomach uncomfortably, and she desperately wanted to forget for now. She decided to go with an ambiguous answer. “Better than I expected.” Penelope left a beat of silence, expecting something more than that. Josie cleared her throat and said, “You never told me what you’re in town for. Just joining in on the celebration?”

“I wish.” Penelope shook her head and said, “No, my coven bestowed upon me the great honor of social sacrifice. I’m supposed to rub elbows and glad-hand with the best of them.”

“That kind of sucks,” Josie said between bites. “None of the events have redeemed it for you yet?”

“Well,” Penelope said with a sly quirk of her mouth, “this is pretty nice so far.”

This time, Josie was ready, determined not to let Penelope rattle her with a few underhandedly flirty words. She swirled the deep red liquid around in her glass, hoping she didn’t come off as transparently flattered as she felt. “Yeah? Just wait until dessert.”

Penelope laughed, clearly taken aback, but didn’t seem to have an appropriate riposte. “So, I heard that MG and Lizzie finally got together. They still dating with everything going on?” The abrupt change in topic didn’t go unnoticed by Josie, but she was mostly just relieved that she wouldn’t have to make good on her bravado.

“Yeah, but it’s been pretty tough.” Josie shrugged, unsure how much she should divulge. “Any relationship would struggle if it could only be on every other year.”

“Does that mean you’re not seeing anyone then?” Penelope asked, boldly holding Josie’s gaze.

“Not currently.” Josie couldn’t discern Penelope’s reaction as she maintained her cool demeanor.

“Not for a while?”

Josie wondered if there was something deeper being inquired here and hesitated before answering, “There was this girl for a couple years, but I changed more than she did. I guess, vamps have an eternity to get their shit together, but we don’t.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Penelope said and finished off her glass.

“You too?” Josie raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

Penelope nodded but didn’t elaborate. Instead, she asked, “What about that summer after I moved to Belgium? I think someone told me about you and a certain _extra_ special immortal bird.”

Groaning, Josie said, “Please don’t remind me.”

“What?” Penelope asked, all mockingly innocent.

“Yes, Landon and I dated for a few ill-fated months,” Josie said. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Really,” Penelope said, still enunciating sarcastically. “Did everyone else leave the school or?”

“Listen, I was going through a hard time,” Josie said, a touch more defensive than she intended, “and he was there.”

“Fair enough.” Penelope picked up the bottle and topped off Josie’s drink before pouring herself a second glass. “And then Hope came back?”

Josie sighed. Another old wound. “Yeah, and to absolutely no one’s surprise, he chose her.”

“She has pretty great hair, I guess.”

“Are you saying I don’t?” Josie asked, setting her elbows against the table, words strung with a half-joking, half-warning timbre.

“I’m saying, you really suffered when I stopped doing your hair for you,” Penelope said, the good-natured slope of her smile softening the blow of her words.

“Wow,” Josie said, pulling the syllable long in disbelief. “And here I made an amazing dinner for you.”

Penelope lifted her chin and said, “I don’t know, I mean, I haven’t tasted a Hope Mikaelson dinner yet.”

“Don’t be mean!” Josie had the supremely childish urge to flick Penelope’s arm, like she’d often done when they’d dated. She settled for a glare that perhaps lost some of its heat as she failed to control a blush at the friendly teasing.

Penelope held her hands up and spared Josie any further embarrassment, switching gears once more. “Are Hope and Landon even still together?”

“No, they split up a couple years back. Nothing dramatic… people grow apart.” She didn’t mention that the world ending crises that tore them apart time and time again had also been the only thing holding them together for so long. It wasn’t really for her to share.

“Well, I guess, I can’t really criticize anyone’s dating life anyway,” Penelope said lightly.

“You’ve got some bad ones under your belt?” As a light afterthought, Josie added, “Hopefully, I’m not included in that list.” And it was then that she realized neither of them had verbally recognized their status as exes until now. Other than the minute twitch in Penelope’s cheek, she didn’t outwardly react to the acknowledgement.

“No, no, I have impeccable taste,” Penelope said somewhat facetiously, laying to rest Josie’s worry of having made things awkward. “But sometimes it’s good to make mistakes.”

“Because you can learn from them?”

“Eh, at least, I hope I’ve learned a lot.” Penelope took a small sip of the wine. “I think I did it all wrong back then, when we dated.”

Josie set her fork down and propped her elbow up on the table. “Yeah, what would you do differently?”

Penelope considered the question for a few seconds, giving it serious thought. A subtle sorrow pulled at her features, giving her an air of unexpected gravitas. “If I could do it all over again, I’d keep more of myself this time. I don’t think people are meant to give everything away, not in love or anything else.”

Well, that was not at all what Josie had expected Penelope to get out of their time together. Nothing about refraining from meddling in family matters? Or even not getting into relationships with severely codependent people?

“Really? Don’t you think that’s kind of the point of love? To put others before yourself and give what you can?”

“I don’t know,” Penelope said, and for the first time since seeing Josie again, her walls lowered, a rare vulnerability exposed. “Once you’ve given every piece of yourself away, what’s left?”

Josie replied immediately, “Everything that others have given you.” There was pain in Penelope’s words, new or old, Josie couldn’t quite tell. She supposed it didn’t matter.

Penelope’s eyes widened at the quickness of Josie’s response. Face falling, she took in the sentiment.

The conversation lulled there for a few minutes, and they returned to eating and some sparse small talk about nothing of particular importance. It wasn’t unpleasant, more like Penelope was still digesting what Josie had said. Penelope insisted on clearing the table herself, and Josie caved when she realized how tiring the day had been. After finishing up, Josie took out some tiramisu from the fridge and let Penelope divide it between the two of them.

“I have to admit, I’m a little surprised you remembered my favorite,” Penelope said as she picked up her fork.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to make my own, so this is bakery bought,” Josie said, wincing mostly in jest.

“What’s even the point?” Penelope laughed at Josie’s scrunched reaction. “Thank you, though. This was really nice. All of it.”

“Of course. It’s the least I could do.”

“Did Ramos put you on the right path, at least?”

“Kind of.” Josie bit her lip. This was the perfect opportunity to get into it, but she was still reluctant to risk ruining everything.

“If you don’t want to talk about it—”

“It’s not that,” Josie said. Inhaling deeply, she took the plunge. “She offered me use of her family’s archives but stipulated it would be in return for clearing her debt with you. I obviously didn’t accept, because it’s not really up to me, and also I had a feeling she didn’t exactly have the purest of intentions.”

“Ah, I see.” Penelope squared her jaw and continued, “I should’ve known she’d try to pull something like that. I apologize for not giving you a heads up first.” She reverted to her more cautious, almost stiff way of speaking, and Josie cringed internally at the change. “Your assumption was right, Evangeline was trying to get around with a much smaller payment than what she owes.”

“Why does she owe you?”

“It’s not important, just coven politics and bullshit.” Penelope waved it off but remained guarded and unreadable. It had to be something big for her to act this way, Josie surmised.

“I understand,” Josie said, even though she didn’t really. “Sounds way above my pay grade. I just thought it might be worth a try to ask you about it.” Penelope met her gaze, contemplating the circumstances, and Josie saw a hint of vulnerability within. Pressing there, Josie reached out, fingers resting over Penelope’s. “I know it’s been a long time and we didn’t part on the best note, but it would mean a lot to me.”

As Penelope narrowed her eyes, Josie wondered if she’d seen right through her. Admittedly, Josie was out of practice in the art of persuasion, and all she had to work with was decade-old faded feelings.

In an effort to distract Penelope from that discovery, Josie followed it up with something lighter. “I could make you dinner many more times, if that helps at all.”

The understated levity in Josie’s tone brought a melancholy look to Penelope’s face, and she said, “Nah, you need this more than I do.” Penelope opened her mouth, but no words came out for a time. The rush of blood roared in Josie’s ears as she waited, fingernails digging bluntly into her palm. Penelope tried again, finally managing to say, “Go ahead and tell Ramos you accept her terms.”

“Yeah?”

Penelope mustered up a reassuring smile and said, “I mean it. You can thank me with homemade dessert next time.”

Penelope had seemed genuinely conflicted, and Josie wondered why exactly she’d given in so readily. Was it as Josie suspected, that after all this time Penelope still had a soft spot for her? Or was there something deeper that Josie just didn’t understand yet?

For now, it was a kindness, one that warmed Josie’s heart. “Thank you,” she said.

///

Following Penelope’s departure, Josie spent the next half hour cleaning up the kitchen. It gave her a good amount of solitary thinking time, processing everything that happened during dinner, from the teasing to the catching up to Penelope’s agreement. When she trudged up the stairs to the guest bedroom, she noted that Hope and her family still hadn’t come back. Perhaps the fireworks had gone on longer than expected.

Josie didn’t even bother to change into her pajamas, opting to fall directly into bed. She dug out her phone and checked the archive, a beat of happiness drumming against her ribs as she saw that Lizzie had a video uploaded for today’s matching date from a year ago. After pressing play, Josie laid her head back and closed her eyes, letting Lizzie’s voice wash over her.

_“I know it’s been a couple days longer than I said, but MG and I made up. A lot. You know.”_ Instinctively, Josie’s face scrunched up in disgust. _“TMI, sure, but I have no one else to tell since Hope is still trying to ‘find herself’ somewhere in the Swiss countryside. And Pedro. Well, he’ll always be a kid to me._

_“Anyway, we just wanted to make the most of our time before Dad and I jet off to Tunisia. The Mageía Festival apparently originated in Carthage, and Dad thinks we can find out which covens attended the first one. If it gets us anywhere, maybe we can even—sorry, I won’t jinx it.”_ Lizzie sniffed and continued, forcing a brightness to her tone. _“Unrelated, Kaleb said there’s been an influx of vampires enrolling, and none of them know who turned them. I swear to god, if it’s another mini-apocalypse, I’ll be seriously pissed. Like, we just had one! Be original and wait a few years._

_“Well, I’m going to stop here. MG’s ready for round 8. Thank you, Esther Mikaelson for vampire stamina. Don’t be a bitter crone about it, Josie.”_ Eyes snapping open, Josie glared at the screen, as if Lizzie would retroactively feel it on her. “ _Goodnight, love you!”_

With a heave, Josie got into an upright position and started filming a reply. “Wow. First off, I’ll have you know, us single witches have been reclaiming ‘crone’ for years. And secondly… I don’t actually have a second point.” Josie laughed wearily. “Today was pretty good. I made an amazing dinner, using that new mac and cheese recipe you recommended. And Penelope agreed to the deal Evangeline Ramos brought up, so hopefully, that’ll be worth it.”

Josie scratched at the linen sheet, a half-smile pulling at her lips. “There’s a lot of history with her, but... it still felt nice tonight. Like revisiting a memory for the first time in years.” She let out a long breath and said, “But I know I’m being stupid. Nothing’s going to happen between us.” She shrugged, resigned. “It is what it is.”

///

Light shone through the numerous four paneled windows of the corner study, the brightest room of the Abattoir. Sturdy cardboard boxes lined the walls, pushing against the bookshelves and desk. Laid out on the center stuffed sofa, Josie leafed through the contents of a large binder. She jotted down an observation in her notebook on the breadth of history recorded within.

Not long after Josie made it through the first binder, Hope poked her head through the doorway. “Just getting started?”

Without looking away from the documents, Josie replied, “Yep. Box one of twenty.”

“So there isn’t any way I can persuade you into tagging along for the concert tonight?” Hope asked, sounding firmly on the wiser side of pessimism.

“Not at all,” Josie said simply. “This is where I should be.”

Hope didn’t answer, and the uncharacteristic silence finally tugged Josie’s attention away from her reading. Lips pursed, Hope seemed more disappointed than surprised.

“What?”

“Just… you really are determined not to enjoy a single minute of this festival.” The melancholy in Hope’s expression hit Josie as hard as her words did.

“This isn’t some vacation to me,” Josie said, setting the files aside and crossing her arms.

“I know.”

Defensiveness rising, Josie felt compelled to give her justifications. “These materials are on loan; I only have until the end of the month to go through them. And this has been the first promising lead since the year began.”

“I know,” Hope repeated. “It’s just hard to watch.”

“Watch what?”

Hope’s gaze fell to the floor as she contemplated her next words. After a moment, she spoke, hushed, “To watch the two of you run yourselves into the ground.”

“Then don’t watch,” Josie replied immediately on first instinct, clenching her hands into fists as anger rose in her chest like steam. “I would’ve thought you of all people would understand.”

“You know, the first year, I visited you when you were comatose. You looked like you were already dead. And functionally, for those 365 days, you essentially were.” Hope raised her head, tears filling her eyes, and Josie had to look away. “And now, you wake up and go through the motions, exhausting option after option. And I can’t help but think that this isn’t living either.”

Josie stood, facing Hope with a defiant set to her jaw. “You think I don’t know that I’ve basically lost the last four years of my life?” Josie asked, voice unsteady with the weight of her feelings. “I am painfully aware of it every single day. What do you want from me?”

Hope remained unfazed by Josie’s intensity, replying gently, “I want you to take care of yourself. Not just the routine of showering, eating, sleeping, but doing things that actually make life worth living.”

“Seeing Lizzie again without fear of accidentally killing her—that’s what will make my life worth living,” Josie insisted. “Anything short of that is just filling up the empty space.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

“Don’t I?” Josie tilted her head, daring Hope to contradict her. “And if our places were switched, you’d be working just as hard, Ms. Always and Forever,” she hissed. When Hope recoiled, hurt flashing in her eyes at the mocking mention of her family promise, vindication seared down the back of Josie’s throat. “I don’t have time to deal with your hypocrisy right now. So, please, just go away.” And to prove her point, Josie sat back down and picked up where she’d left off in the binder.

“Okay.” Hope waited a beat, lingering still. Softer, she said, “I know it’s nowhere near the same, but I miss her too.”

Josie swallowed whatever emotion threatened to engulf her at that, gripping the plastic binder tightly. She kept her eyes trained on the page, refusing to give Hope the satisfaction of an affected response. It was only when she heard the clunk of Hope’s boots walking away that she let the binder fall closed. The front door opened with a creak, followed by muffled voices that Josie dismissed as Hope and her family carrying on a conversation for a minute or two. As she heard footsteps coming back up the stairs, she tensed, dreading another spat.

But as dark hair swung into view, Josie released a heavy exhale, and Penelope stopped at the entrance with a cursory knock on the door to announce her presence.

“Hey.” Penelope raised an eyebrow at Josie’s reaction. “Were you expecting a burglar?”

“Not exactly,” Josie said. “I’m glad it’s just you.” And before Penelope could be too pleased with that, Josie added, “Since you’re harmless.”

“I’ll try not to take offense.”

“None intended.” Josie cast a questioning look at Penelope. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Well, I was on my way to St. Anne’s and thought I’d drop by and see if Ramos held up her end of the bargain,” Penelope drawled as she bent to inspect the boxes.

That made a certain amount of sense, Josie supposed. “As you can see, she’s been true to her word so far.”

“That’s good to hear.” Straightening, Penelope asked, “You’re not going to the concert tonight then? I heard it’s the big event of the whole festival.”

“No, I should start my reading.”

Penelope furrowed her brow skeptically. “Is it really that urgent that it can’t wait one night?”

Great, two interrogations back to back. Just what Josie needed. A touch exasperated, she answered, “Ever since Aunt Bonnie cast the spell, our magic has become unstable. Even though Lizzie’s been able to cast small spells, I try not to even siphon anymore. It’s just a matter of time before something goes seriously wrong.” The words sounded rehearsed and almost bored, even to her.

But Penelope processed it quickly, breaking into a sardonic grin, and said, “Well, I don’t have anything better to do. Mind if I lend an extra pair of eyes?”

Josie snorted. “And why would you want to help me? As I recall, you hated studying.”

Shrugging, Penelope said, “Gives me an excuse to avoid the hobnobbing.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Josie asked, squinting.

“Because you’re blindingly intelligent,” Penelope said, dripping with praising sarcasm, walking the line of in/sincerity. “And I’ve frequently been told I have a very untrustworthy vibe.”

Shaking her head, Josie said, “You take that as a compliment, don’t you?”

Penelope hummed cryptically, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Like most things, this will be faster with two people. Does it really matter what my ulterior motive is here?” She winked, lit up with remembrance and mischief. “Besides, I’m harmless.”

Josie rolled her eyes. “Fine. You can start with that box.”

///

“The Madayag archives have been pretty interesting,” Josie said, rubbing at her eyes after spending so long pouring through the records. She propped her phone against the nightstand, so she could film more comfortably. “There’s some speculation on the origins of the Merge and why our coven has always been so secretive, but nothing all that definitive. Also some rumor about a great massacre that nearly wiped out the Gemini coven hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Kind of like at Dad and Jo’s wedding.”

Josie stifled a yawn, forcing herself to continue. “Penelope has been helping me occasionally. Haven’t figured out what she’s up to yet.” Mouth twisting, she mentally ran through the past few exchanges. “I’m still not very good at reading her. It’ll probably be obvious in retrospect, which makes it all the more annoying now.”

The much-eluded embrace of sleep beckoned her, and she hurriedly added, “Oh, before I forget, I bumped into Ms. Tig on the street the other day. She told me she’s back in England and working with both humans and supernaturals.” The sight of the Salvatore School’s former (and not even worst) counselor had elicited mixed feelings. “So. Good for her, I think. Hard to forgive her for leaving Dad alone right before Triad invaded, but I guess you can’t get mad when people jump off a sinking ship.”

Eyes already mostly shut, Josie said, “Okay, that’s all I got for now. Talk more later.”

///

Josie pivoted slowly, scrutinizing her reflection in the floor-length mirror attached to the back of her bedroom door. It had been a while since she’d put in the effort to dress up. She looked mostly presentable, in her opinion. The concealer was doing a valiant job of making her seem like someone who actively got enough sleep, but the gray suede jacket over her simple black dress gave off a strong funeral vibe. As she debated changing into something brighter, she received a text from Penelope, announcing her arrival.

This would have to do, she decided.

Approaching the silver sedan parked outside, Josie fiddled with the buckle of her purse as she caught sight of Penelope in the driver’s seat. Penelope’s face was bare of make-up except some minimal eyeliner, and Josie found that she looked softer and younger. As Josie slid into the passenger seat and shut the door, Penelope asked, “You ready?”

At Josie’s nod, Penelope started up the engine and merged back into the street.

“How far is City Park?” Josie asked, switching her phone from vibrate to silent. If she was going to take a break, then it was going to be a real one. No family asking about her progress and no emails from obscure specialists bringing up more dead ends. And Hope thought she wasn’t capable of living a little.

“Not too far. A little under 4 miles according to the GPS,” Penelope replied. “You regretting saying yes?”

“No, not yet,” Josie said, smiling. “But we’ve got the whole night ahead of us for that.”

Penelope chuckled at the lighthearted dig. “I don’t remember you being this opposed to breaks.”

“Well, the stakes involved with studying were also a lot lower.” Josie rested her head against the window, unbothered by the slight bumpiness of the road. “But since you said the next shipment of files won’t arrive until tomorrow, I guess I have nothing better to do.”

“Oof, you’re really good for the self-esteem.” Jokingly, Penelope pressed one hand to her chest.

“I don’t even know what the event we’re heading to is about.” That wasn’t entirely true, but Josie knew so little that it didn’t feel like a lie either. “So, I’m clearly here for the company.” As the words left her lips, she belatedly wondered if that last bit had been too honest. But the admission drew a pleased half-smile from Penelope, and Josie found she didn’t regret that sliver of vulnerability after all.

Penelope let the latter remark go without comment and said, “It’s a cleansing ritual, meant to restore our connection with nature. There’s a celestial event tonight—some kind of meteor shower I think—so we’ll probably be channeling that.”

“Hm, I suppose that could be interesting.”

They parked a few streets away and headed out on foot toward the glow of light in the distance. As they marched under the vast night, Josie’s gaze was drawn to the stars dotting the sky. She let out a shaky exhale and pulled her jacket closed against the biting wind, trying her best not to think about the archives. Seeing her shiver, Penelope whispered an incantation under her breath and brushed against Josie’s shoulder. As warmth flooded Josie’s body, she had to fight the urge to siphon the magic of the spell.

“Thank you,” Josie said quietly and followed Penelope to the event grounds. A mass of witches, numbering at least a hundred by Josie’s estimate, congregated there, huddled around small bonfires.

Penelope laid out a blanket over an empty spot of grass, and together, they settled on the hard ground. The low hum of chatter around them soothed Josie, and she released the tension in her shoulders, slumping back on her elbows. As an elderly witch waved her hands in the air, a sweet floral scent swept over the murmuring crowd.

Penelope exchanged an amused glance with Josie before returning to observe the other witches with a distant look on her face. A jaunty melody erupted, and Penelope retrieved her phone, the contact on the screen just visible to Josie: _Ibu._ Mom, Josie remembered. Dismissing the call and switching her phone off, Penelope scowled.

Before Josie could voice her concern, Penelope abruptly asked, “If you could make the perfect future, what would it look like?”

The question surprised Josie, and she wondered where it was coming from. She shrugged and answered, “I try not to think about the future too much.”

“Indulge me, please?” Penelope asked, solemn and searching, a very rare glimpse of the woman underneath all the guile and indifference she usually put on display.

And so, Josie pondered her future for the first time in many years. Haltingly, she confessed her hope. “I guess, the Merge would be out of the way, and Lizzie and I would be alive and well. And then we would go on a road trip, just the two of us, like we talked about years ago.”

Penelope kept her gaze trained ahead, peering off into the far distance. “And after that?”

“After that… I don’t know.” It had always been too painful to think about what was beyond the Merge. Some miniscule part of her didn’t really believe she’d make it to that time. Then, Josie recalled the things that Bonnie and Hope had said to her over the past week, and a private greed reared its head. Quietly, wistfully, Josie said, “I just want to live. To really live.”

The cold detachment melted away from Penelope’s expression, and she looked at Josie as if seeing her with new eyes. Tentatively, Penelope reached out and covered Josie’s hand with hers. Josie didn’t stop her, savoring the unexpected heat from Penelope’s touch. Perhaps it was just the magic warming their hands, but Josie still wanted to hold on to the feeling.

As Josie let their fingers tangle loosely, she asked, “And what about you?”

Penelope grimaced. “If it were up to me, I’d leave everything behind,” she said, voice low and rough with candor. “The witch politics, the coven drama, I’m sick of being tangled up in it all. I want to start over somewhere new.”

Ah, that would explain her sudden curiosity in what the future held in store.

“Why isn’t it up to you?”

The question was innocuous enough, but Penelope flinched, withdrawing her hand. She sighed and said, “My coven is in a pretty precarious position right now, and if I left… well, my family would be pretty angry. I just can’t be bothered to deal with that.”

Josie digested that for a moment before shaking her head. “I don’t believe you. I think you love them, and you know they need you, so you stay.”

Penelope’s eyes widened, and she let out a terse, bitter laugh. “And what makes you think that? When I loved you and knew you needed me, I still left.”

Though Penelope’s words were pointed, they lacked maliciousness. And so Josie responded in kind. “Yeah, you did. I won’t lie and say that didn’t hurt at the time, but some part of me always understood that it wasn’t really up to you. You couldn’t have stayed when your mom was moving so far away.” Reminded of her own situation, she added almost as an afterthought, “Family is important.”

Penelope pressed her lips together in subtle defiance. But she didn’t outright refute Josie’s claim. Only the dip in her brow showed her surrender as she asked, “So, you forgive me for all that stuff way back when?”

“I wouldn’t say all of it,” Josie said, choosing her words carefully. “Some of it, yes. You fought for me like no one else ever has, and I… I was blind to it until you left.” Frowning, she continued, “But you were also cruel. To me and to Lizzie, especially. Love isn’t an excuse.”

Glancing away, Penelope could barely be heard over the surrounding chitchat as she said, “You’re right.” The concession caught Josie off guard, but Penelope wasn’t done. “I was hurt and scared, and I used love as a justification for the lengths I was willing to go to. I’m sorry.”

The apology was a decade late and to only half the relevant parties, but Josie still nodded, accepting it. It was ancient history, and all that was left was for her to ask, “And do you forgive me for everything I put you through? Asking you to love a codependent nightmare?”

“Yeah, completely,” Penelope said easily, “and also no, not at all.” Josie furrowed her brow quizzically. “Before you, I never knew how much love could hurt. Is that something that can be forgiven?” Penelope finally met Josie’s eyes once more, and what Josie saw there was a well-hidden brokenness. It wasn’t that Josie thought it was the same as hers, but that she couldn’t tell them apart either.

“I don’t know,” Josie said truthfully.

Gasps burst from the other witches, and Josie tore her gaze away and up to see the tell-tale white streaks hurtling across the dark sky, like divinity falling from the heavens. As chanting filled the night, Penelope held her hand out to Josie in wordless permission.

A spell as minor as this would be fine, Josie figured. She skimmed her fingers along Penelope’s palm, siphoning the power she felt there, taking only a small fraction of it. Penelope’s magic filled her veins, rushing to the center of her chest, like an old love coming home. Synchronously, they fell into the chorus of the simple incantation, hands glowing where they joined.

The minutes stretched, the world around them slowing down, and when the radiance lifted, Josie felt clear-headed. Penelope beamed at her, still visibly shaking with adrenaline.

As they packed up, getting ready to leave, Josie voiced a fresh realization. “You lied, didn’t you? About the next shipment?”

Penelope fumbled with the folded up blanket as she picked it up. Caught in the act, she bit her lip. “Are you mad?”

Was she? Maybe Bonnie and Hope had been right, after all. Josie gave a small smile and said, “No, I needed this.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read through; I hope you enjoyed. Please leave a comment if you feel so inclined. Additional gratitude is due to my nothing and everything, [dubcliq](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dubcliq), for all your help from start to finish and reliquiaen for beta-ing.
> 
> Title and lyrics from the beginning are from "Dear Lover" by Little Mix.
> 
> Until next time~


End file.
